


good morning, you needn't worry (if you cry, shout or laugh)

by ribcagedtart



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Getting to Know Each Other, Introspection, M/M, Personal Growth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24153406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribcagedtart/pseuds/ribcagedtart
Summary: Sometimes there is a rush of wind past Mitsuki's ears whenever Kujou speaks to him.
Relationships: Izumi Mitsuki/Kujou Ten
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	good morning, you needn't worry (if you cry, shout or laugh)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowdrops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/gifts).



> Written as a welcoming gift to Linn, who has recently joyously joined us in the depths of i7 hell, heehehohos. Welcome to hell, welcome to hell! _(•̀ω•́ 」∠)_
> 
> Shoutout to Sarah for beta-ing this!

Sometimes there is a rush of wind past Mitsuki's ears whenever Kujou speaks to him.

_You are always the hero of your own story,_ he says, _don't ever forget that,_ and Mitsuki thinks he hears the rise of construction in the distance; the clash of brick and mortar; of buildings being made into existence inside his heart, and inside his world, a feeling expanding beyond his own comprehension.

_Thank you,_ he answers back, and doesn't quite ever get over Kujou's words. He, too, wants to have the power of that conviction.

(Izumi Mitsuki, too, wants to be strong.)

***

The very first time he makes Kujou Tenn laugh, Mitsuki is shooting a cafè-hopping series with TRIGGER's acclaimed centre, and he learns warmly, quickly, how much of an unpredictable dice roll Kujou could be.

He is idly cutting into a slice of caramel apple cake when he catches Kujou's gaze trained upon the piece on his plate, and Mitsuki, in a fit of intrigue, hovers his fork above it. Kujou's eyes follow until they snap up to his, and for the quick beat of a second, _something_ crackles in the air between them; Mitsuki feels goosebumps raise on the back of his neck.

(Is this the so called…"chemistry" that the show producers have always claimed them to share?)

He thinks _ah, I've been caught_ , but Kujou then relaxes into the plush backing of his velvet armchair and becomes nothing short of a picture of decadence, rivalling the allure of the dark chocolate ganachè set on Kujou's own plate. He picks at the premium-sized strawberry garnished on top of it as a bird would with its dinner, using just the very tip of a lightly painted nail, and arches an eyebrow at Mitsuki, a hint of a smirk shadowed on his lips. "Teasing me, were you?"

Perhaps, Mitsuki is forgiven. He grins. "How could I not when you were staring holes into my cake!" And, just to test the waters, Mitsuki adds impishly: "If you'd wanted a taste of it so badly, you could've just asked me, y'know?"

Something stills in Kujou at that, like a door clicking open but never fully swinging out. The faint smile he lets slip is thin and his eyes now seem to see beyond whatever depths he— as just _Izumi Mitsuki_ —is ever allowed to reach.

He replies, "Would you, really?"

And Mitsuki could apologise, but what he's gleaned from Kujou is that actions are always, always louder than words; he cuts into the slice and spears a portion of it on his fork like a cake pop, stretching his arm across the table to bring it as close as he dares to Kujou's mouth.

For the lack of anything else better to say, Mitsuki says _aaaah_ and hopes it works.

It does _not_ apparently, for Kujou does absolutely nothing except turn his stonefaced countenance on him like a jizo statue judging him for his life decisions. Mitsuki is about to hastily pull back until he hears it:

He hears the softest of huffs coming from Kujou and his face is no longer blank; he is laughing and smiling at Mitsuki.

(Something sounds like a hammer to a glass in the back of Mitsuki's heart.)

"Got you worried there for a second, didn't I? That's what you get for treating me like your younger brother." Without breaking eye contact, he leans forward and envelops his lips around Mitsuki's fork. He reclines with a thoughtful expression, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "It's a lot more tart than I expected it to be."

"Right?" Mitsuki intones. "Just like someone I know."

"Who?" Kujou smirks. "You?"

And they both laugh, comfortably, at each other.

Mitsuki forgets that they're on set for a moment, until their director comes grinning and slapping at their backs, raucously approving at _how well you two are getting along!_ and to _please channel the same intimacy later when we start recording!_

A passing staff member nods in sympathy at the winded looks on their faces. "Well," Mitsuki starts, a little breathless. "Looks like Director Izanagi has high hopes for us."

"And we'll meet them, won't we?" Kujou says, the twinkle in his eyes catching Mitsuki off guard. He raises the porcelain saucer of which a steaming cup of earl grey tea had been placed on by a cafè employee earlier, and takes a brief calming sip. When he looks at Mitsuki again, it is both in support and, of course, a challenge. "After all, we're professionals."

( _You have everything in you to keep up with me_ goes largely unspoken but the sentiment of it hits deeply within Mitsuki.)

Already, he feels fired up for the day's work to begin. He grins, warmth like the sun cradled in his throat and coursing through his veins; Izumi Mitsuki is _ready._ "You got it!"

The shoot goes remarkably well with barely any hitches that day and when everyone parts, it is with goodwill and cheers of _let's work hard next week, too!_

Kujou leaves after a fleeting nod and tap to Mitsuki's shoulder. Then, he's gone and Mitsuki finds himself staring after the door Kujou had slipped through, inexplicably.

He feels the brush of a wind, gently, against his side and then, it, too, dissipates.

***

Mitsuki returns to a mostly noisy dorm and he's greeted at the door by Nagi and— miraculously for once!—Yamato. The old man's usually either back too late from his own acting schedule or passed out from beer in his room, limp and dead to the world like many of the drunk salarymen Mitsuki's seen slumped on public property along his nightly jog route.

Nagi dips to drag him into an overenthusiastic _welcome home~!! would you like coffee, tea or me—☆_ hug and it is in the midst of him getting ready to suplex Nagi to the ground that he catches Yamato scrutinizing him.

He absolutely does not like the expression on his face at all, for the very next second, Yamato grins not unlike a cat who's gotten a whiff of some very enticing cream; he waves a hand lackadaisically, calling out: "Good work, good work! How was your date with Kujou today?"

(Needless to say, Izumi Mitsuki ends him.)

He drags them both in by their collars, laughing yet still irate, and it's been a good day, he thinks.

It's been a very good day.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Judas" by Abuse/Hirose.


End file.
